


The Dwarven Art of Conserving Heat

by Aquila_Star



Series: Powers of Persuasion [10]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feels, M/M, scene 88 redux, smut again!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puppy piles, running, running, and more running. When they are finally done running, Bilbo isn't sure just what to do. It's a good thing that Thorin has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dwarven Art of Conserving Heat

The reprieve they had found atop the Carrock was short lived. Gandalf pushed them to move on quickly, and after the battle on the slopes of the mountains, where more than one of them had almost lost their lives, Thorin was more than happy to comply.

So, they ran...well, jogged, really. They didn't stop all that day, save two short breaks for meals, two of the sparsest, most pitiful excuses for meals that Thorin had ever been subject to. They had managed to find streams enough to keep their canteens filled, few as they were. Most of their gear had been lost in Goblin Town, and while Thorin regretted the loss, at least they all still had their weapons, and that was something.

When they camped for the night in a sheltered dell, Thorin insisted on extra eyes for each watch, assigning each family group to a shift, and shortened the shifts so that everyone could get some sleep. Everyone save Gandalf, who immediately departed to scout out the area, as was his wont. 

Everyone fell into exhausted slumber as soon as they hit the ground, piled atop and around one another. They had no bedrolls or blankets, and they would risk no fire, so they slept very close together, in clumps made up of family groups as Thorin had predicted when he'd chosen the watch schedule, not wanting to leave anyone cold without a body to sleep beside. 

Bilbo was the most susceptible to the cold, and had no family to sleep with, not that such a thing mattered to Thorin. Bilbo was his One, after all, and that made him family. He pulled Bilbo to a spot near to several other piles of mostly slumbering Dwarves, using his grip on Bilbo's jacket to pull him down. Thorin's coat was large enough for both of them, so he ensured that the side near the ground was spread out properly, and then tugged Bilbo in, flush against his chest. His head tucked under Thorin's chin and his feet tangled with Thorin's legs. He fit there as if he'd been made for it, and now, Thorin knew why, knew why he'd always fit into Thorin so well. Bilbo had been carved for him, he was sure of it. Of course he fit in Thorin's arms. 

He wrapped the loose end of his coat around them both and then gestured to his nephews, leaving them to find a place. They wasted no time at all, Fili wrapping himself around Bilbo's back while Kili draped himself over them all, the bulk of his weight on Fili, with an arm and leg thrown across Bilbo and resting on Thorin.

“Gah,” Bilbo squeaked, once they were all settled. “I feel like I'm a flower pressed into a book,” he remarked in his dry, long suffering tone of voice. 

“You'll stay warm there,” Fili said, his breath making Bilbo's hair flutter. Not two days ago Thorin would have been desperately trying to keep himself from punching Fili in the face if he'd gotten so close to Bilbo, but now...now he was just happy they were both here, safe and whole and alive.

“Why would you press a flower in a book?” Kili asked, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Never mind,” Bilbo replied, squirming a bit until he seemed to find a comfortable place. After that, it was mere moments until the three of them were asleep, and Thorin felt the strain of the past few days leave him. He'd made his declaration now, for good or worse, and while Bilbo wasn't aware of just how powerful a statement it was, the Dwarves all knew. Gandalf as well, no doubt. 

“Amralime,” he whispered into Bilbo’s curls as he felt sleep overtaking him. He'd have time to explain it all to Bilbo. Later. 

 

* * *

 

When Bilbo woke in the predawn light, he was rather smushed and stiff. He found he couldn't move, and if it weren't for the warmth surrounding him and the smell of Thorin in his nose, he'd be afraid. As it was, Fili's light snore and the steady beat of Thorin's heart reminded him exactly where he was. He shifted as much as he could, only to find that Kili was properly on top of him now, his head pillowed on Fili's shoulder, his arm and hand half tangled in Thorin's hair while his leg was draped over Thorin's hip. 

It was a terribly intimate pile of Dwarf he'd found himself in, especially after he had the alarming realisation that he could feel not one but three...yes, three suspicious bulges pressing into him. A strained squawk came from his throat unbidden, especially when he considered Thorin's words from Rivendell. 

He was pressed between Fili and Kili now, with Thorin added for good measure. He...wasn't sure how he felt about it, if he was honest with himself. Fili and Kili were both good-natured, attractive lads, and while Bilbo had never considered them in that sense, and still didn't, it was all but impossible not to be flattered and even a bit aroused by the sensation. 

Fili was plastered to his back, and Kili had him pinned entirely with his comparatively large body. Meanwhile, it was Thorin who held Bilbo's full attention. He was wrapped as much around Bilbo as he could be, one arm under Bilbo's head, and no doubt Fili's head as well, now that Bilbo thought about it. His other arm was wrapped around them both as well...Bilbo couldn't feel anything at his back but Fili. 

Fili's arm must have been wrapped around his brother, but where was his...oh...now that he was paying attention he could feel that Fili's other arm under his shoulder. Bilbo was willing to bet that half their limbs were asleep from lack of circulation by now. 

Thorin snuffed into his hair, drawing Bilbo's perusal back to him, enjoying the feeling of his legs tangled with Thorin's, their hips pressed together. And that...that was unmistakeably Thorin's erection. Bilbo would recognize that anywhere. His own began to make itself known, and for a moment he mourned the fact that there would be no release this morning. For any of them. Now that he was more awake, he was certain that the bulge nudging his lower back belonged to Fili, and the matching length against his hip was, in fact, Kili's. 

As awkward and uncomfortable as he felt, wrapped up, not in the one Dwarf he was accustomed to, but in three slumbering Dwarves, he could admit Fili was right. 

He was very warm. 

And he was suddenly aware that someone was approaching. Given the soft tread of boots, so at odds with the usual clomping, it must be Gandalf. Another moment and he was proved to be right, as Gandalf himself crouched behind Thorin's back, a wrinkled hand reaching and touching Thorin's shoulder lightly, even as he met Bilbo's eyes with a smirk and a wink.

From there, it was like a chain reaction. 

Thorin looked up, noticed Gandalf and nodded, rolling backwards and pulling himself away from Bilbo and to his feet in one swift movement that caused Kili to slide down and, for a swift moment, Bilbo really was pressed between the boys. However, the movement woke both of them, who then untangled themselves from Bilbo and were up, almost as fast as Thorin. Bilbo was the only one left on the ground still, but that didn’t last either, as Fili reached down and picked him up, setting him on his feet as both the brothers dusted him off together. 

“Morning Bilbo,” Kili said with a cheeky grin. “Sleep well?”

“As well as I could under a pile of Dwarves.”

Fili laughed and pointed out, “you were warm though, weren't you?”

“Indeed,” Bilbo admitted. “It's not as bad as all that, I suppose.”

“We've never had any complaints before,” Kili added, giving Bilbo a cheeky wink. Fili slapped him heartily on the shoulder, and they both followed Thorin, who was across the camp in discussion with Dwalin. 

The rest were waking up quickly, and it occurred to him that they'd never been woken for a turn at watch. The reason for that was soon apparent, as he approached Gandalf and the others. 

“You need rest too, old man,” Thorin was saying, earning a chuckle from Gandalf. 

“Not as much as you,” Gandalf replied. “I am able to refresh myself in other ways, and at the moment, the rest of you and your Company is much more pressing. As is the need to move on. We cannot be sure that we are not being followed, in fact, I am certain that the chase will begin again, and soon.”

“You're right, we need to leave,” Thorin said, turning to face the group at large, sparing a moment as Bilbo reached him, giving him an encouraging smile and reaching out to lay a large hand on the back of Bilbo's neck, squeezing affectionately. 

“Everyone up and ready,” he called, getting the attention of all the other Dwarves. “We leave in five minutes. We'll stop at the stream for a moment to rinse off the sleep and refill our water.”

Everyone moved to obey, gathering their meagre possessions and stretching out the kinks from sleeping on the hard, cold ground, however warm their puppy piles may have been. Bilbo didn't have anything to gather, realising that he'd slept with the sword still attached to his hip, that most of the Dwarves, including the three he'd shared a pile with, had slept with their weapons attached. How they were comfortable like that, Bilbo would never have guessed, but then again, he'd not noticed, even with Fili and all his knives pressed against him, and he'd been as comfortable as possible, all things considered. 

Bilbo looked up to find Thorin staring at him. The warmth from the morning before was still in his eyes, his lips curved in a thoughtful smile. 

“What?” he asked, very aware that Thorin's hand was still wrapped around his neck, his thumb slowly moving on the skin behind Bilbo's ear. 

“You slept well, I hope?” he inquired, pulling Bilbo closer and pressing their foreheads together. Bilbo had seen such an action several times before, it seemed to be how the Dwarves showed affection, encouragement, or their relief that their loved ones were still alive and well. Sometimes it was a bash of skulls, which made Bilbo's head ache in sympathy, though he was certain the Dwarves were not bothered by it, and sometimes it was a gentle press, in the manner Thorin was employing now. Previously, Bilbo had no real inkling of how intimate it was, especially considering the look in Thorin's eyes and their passionate history. 

The closeness and heat that radiated from Thorin merged with the flush of awareness he'd felt when waking up pressed between three very appealing males, all of which no doubt showed on his cheeks very plainly in the now bright sun. 

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. “I was very warm.”

“Good.” Thorin moved closer and leaned in, pressing his lips to Bilbo's in a very gentle kiss, one that shot right to Bilbo’s core nonetheless, leaving him a little bit shaken. “We'll need to sleep that way for a few nights yet,” he added, pulling back from Bilbo. “It's too risky to chance a fire, and the nights are getting colder. Might as well use whatever heat we've available to us.”

“Oh. I suppose that makes sense,” Bilbo agreed. It had been rather effective. Thorin tugged him to where the others were gathering, and called, “Let's move!” 

 

* * *

 

They were running again. Only this time, it could not be considered a jog, as there was a definite threat following right after them. Bilbo thought his lungs would explode, but just when he thought he'd given everything he could, Thorin reached out and grasped his hand, tugging him along until Bilbo felt a second rush of adrenalin, which gave him the strength to continue. Suddenly they were through the hedge and then, inside the house. Once the door was secured and the bear moving away, Bilbo allowed himself to breathe, gasping in exhaustion and relief as he took in his surroundings. 

The house was huge, and the furnishings fit it well. Bilbo felt as if he was in a house of giants. Not even the man sized furniture of Bree was this large. The Dwarves milled around, confused and alarmed with the knowledge that their host had been the one to try and kill them, but when Gandalf suggested that they get some rest, the others began to move deeper into the house, finding places to settle in for a night, covering themselves with cloaks and coats as best they could. 

Bilbo stood senseless for a few minutes, trying to shake himself into action. He was utterly exhausted, but he also felt keyed up, his body still humming with leftover adrenaline. He knew he needed to sleep, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to. What he really needed was Thorin. 

Since their reconciliation they had been on the run, and had slept in a pile every night with Fili and Kili. Bilbo was grateful that they had kept him warm during the coldest hours, but he had woken every morning to the distinct prodding the he could not mistake, and had felt his own hardness rise where it pressed into Thorin's. It had been maddening, but his body had been too exhausted to even consider taking it further. Until now. 

But where was Thorin? Bilbo looked around, trying to find him, but he couldn’t see anyone moving. It seemed that everyone had settled themselves while he'd stood in front of the door like an idiot. There was nothing for it, he'd have to find himself a place to sleep. He moved toward the stable-like area at the back of the house, to the straw where the Company had chosen to bed down. Before he'd taken two steps a hand reached out from the shadows and tugged him in another direction entirely. 

“Come,” Thorin whispered, and Bilbo went. He could only hope that this was going to lead where he wanted it to. Thorin led him past the hearth area into a small side room, one that looked like an extra storage space. It wasn't terribly large, but it was warm, and Thorin had somehow found several blankets and cushions, which he had piled on the floor. 

“Cushions?” Bilbo asked, amazed. “Where did you find those?”

“On the shelves, above,” Thorin replied, and Bilbo looked up to see shelves lined high with an immense variety of items. “I thought you would rather sleep in a bit of privacy than share a bed with Fili and Kili again.”

Bilbo chuckled, grateful for Thorin's thoughtfulness. “Indeed...as warm as it was, I'd much rather spend my nights with just you. If you want.”

“If I want?” Thorin asked, incredulous. “There's nothing I want more, Bilbo...but, do you? Do you want to continue our more intimate relationship or...”

“Oh, yes please,” Bilbo said quickly. “I don't just want to be friends, I mean...I'd like to be friends, but I would very much like to pick up where we left off. And the next time you decide to ignore or belittle me, I'll smack some sense into you much sooner.”

“Yes, I hope you will,” Thorin agreed. “Or rather, I hope you will never have to.”

“Right, then.” Bilbo stared up at Thorin, his body frozen as it had been at the door. It seemed, however, that Thorin wasn't willing to make the first move. Despite Bilbo's assertion, he seemed uncertain about his welcome, and Bilbo was a little thrilled to see it. Thorin needed to know he wasn't in charge of everything, after all. 

On the other hand, Bilbo very much wanted him in charge during moments like this. There was something about being the focus of all that power, of having all Thorin's strength and determination fixated on one thing, on bringing them together in passion. It was humbling...and so very arousing.

Now though, it seemed that Bilbo would need to take matters into his own hands, so he did, tugging at Thorin's surcoat, pushing it up until it tipped off his shoulders. Thorin let it fall to the floor without complaint, and when Bilbo leaned it to pull him down for a kiss, he went willingly. 

More than willingly. The kiss spurred him into motion, and he slid his hands around Bilbo's waist, letting them slide up beneath his coat, the strong fingers massaging him firmly. Bilbo moaned deeply into the kiss, his body flushing all over as he felt Thorin's hands on him again, pulling at his clothing as if they'd never fought, as if they'd never stopped.

He didn't want to stop. He tugged just as desperately at Thorin's clothing, wishing it all gone in an instant. Thorin though, didn't seem as concerned with his own clothing as with Bilbo's and soon Bilbo found himself naked, while Thorin was still mostly dressed, kneeling before him in boots, trousers and tunic. At least Bilbo had managed to removed the top two layers, at least he could feel the shifting muscles of Thorin's shoulders beneath his fingers as he clutched at them for strength. Thorin was pressing his lips against Bilbo, sliding them across his collarbone, nipping gently and sucking small marks into his skin, his hands moving across Bilbo's back and over his backside.

Bilbo found his hands slipping into Thorin's hair, carding through the silky strands as Thorin made his way lower. Bilbo knew where this was going, and he had to stop it before his knees gave way and he collapsed on top of Thorin. He tugged ineffectively on Thorin's hair, finding that, as so often happened when they were together like this, he lost all control over his powers of speech.

“Thorin,” he managed to gasp, even as Thorin's beautiful, wondrous mouth took him in, employing all his numerous skills to reduce Bilbo to a shaking mess. His climax was much too fast in coming, and he didn’t want to end it so soon, he wanted to last, to feel Thorin's skin against his before he came...but Thorin, it seemed, had other plans. 

His hands were moving with as much resolution as his mouth, seemingly determined to touch Bilbo in every way that made him shiver, that made his pleasure ramp up, and Bilbo was undone when his deft, blunt fingers reached inside Bilbo's cleft, opening him to the air before pressing inwards, the sensation of rough calluses in such a delicate place was excruciating, while Thorin's mouth threatened to draw the very life from Bilbo through his erection. 

When he came it was almost too much, too intense, too fast. Thorin took it all in, never letting up his grip on Bilbo's shaft, his fingers still questing behind him, and in moments Bilbo became what he'd feared, a mess of shaking limbs and weak muscles, all strength leaving him as he collapsed into Thorin's arms gracelessly. 

Thorin caught him, sliding his mouth off Bilbo's quickly softening shaft, his eyes glittering wickedly as he let Bilbo fall completely into his arms, supporting him as he laid Bilbo back on the cushions.

“I've missed this,” Thorin said reverently, stroking every part of Bilbo's skin he could reach, drawing goosebumps in the wake of his callused fingertips. “But mostly I've missed you.”

“I, uh...I've missed you too,” Bilbo replied, his eyes closed as he drifted between sleep and awareness, letting Thorin's caresses soothe his tingling nerves. He didn’t fall into sleep, however, as Thorin's hands began to move with purpose once more, kneading at Bilbo's softness before stopping altogether. 

“Wha...” Bilbo began, lifting his weary head to find where Thorin had gone, though had his brain had been in working order, he would have known immediately. Sure enough, Thorin was stripping, tunic off already, boots and trouser disappearing before Bilbo's heavy lidded eyes. His body was as strong and beautiful as Bilbo remembered, though the surprise of it made his own exhaustion was very apparent to him, as it had not barely been a week since they had last done this. Of course Thorin didn't look any different. 

And then he was done and leaning over Bilbo, the heat of his bare skin warming the chill that Bilbo hadn't even known he was feeling. Thorin covered all of him, his body not just larger, but broader in every aspect. Bilbo felt very small under him, but it wasn't the kind of small that made him fear, that brought out the apprehension he often felt around the Men and Dwarves of Bree. It was a feeling of being protected, of being gathered up under Thorin and cared for. 

Bilbo liked it. A lot. He liked how big Thorin was, how easily he could guide Bilbo's body and limbs in the way that best pleased him. The way he could pin Bilbo down with one hand and take what he needed. And yet, even when they had fought, even when Thorin was at his roughest and most unrestrained, Bilbo knew he'd nothing to fear. There was nothing to worry for. Thorin would stop at the slightest hint from Bilbo, he had before and Bilbo knew with utter surety that he would again. Bilbo didn't need to be strong physically, he didn’t need to pin Thorin under him in order to claim his power. One word was all it would take.

He felt safe in Thorin's arms. 

Just at that moment, the safety of those massive, muscled arms was not high on Bilbo's list of thoughts. Just then, he was thinking of how amazing they felt, wrapping Bilbo in an embrace, pulling him up off the makeshift bed to straddle Thorin's lap as he knelt. Bilbo could feel the muscles in Thorin's thighs, the solidness of his chest, the tenderness in the arms around him, the breadth of Thorin's shoulders beneath his hands...it was all for him, and he liked it. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin whispered heatedly, kissing him with a tenderness that turned to need, deepening the kiss until Bilbo felt himself rising up again, the blood that had been flowing in his veins converging back into his growing erection. 

“Do you want this?” Thorin asked, thrusting up against Bilbo, and that was when he noticed the hot, hard shaft pressing into his buttocks, seeking Bilbo's heated entrance. 

“Yes,” Bilbo answered, his voice still a bit shaky from his recent orgasm. “But...we don't have any oil. Again.”

Thorin ducked his head, resting it on Bilbo's shoulder. “I'm sorry,” he said, lifting up to meet Bilbo's eyes, the shame and sorrow in them bringing Bilbo back down to earth. 

“Don't,” Bilbo said. “Stop apologizing for what you've already received forgiveness for. Besides, it's not your fault that I lost my pack in the Goblin Tunnels.”

“No, but it's my fault I left the vial we'd opened in Rivendell, when I was determined to be rid of you and believed I'd never need it again.”

“Oh.” Bilbo wasn't sure what to say to that. “You really wanted rid of me, then?”

“Yes, I...no,” Thorin answered, lowering his head in shame again. “I didn’t want you anywhere but where you are now, but I had convinced myself that you were a weakness, that the quest relied on me having a head cleared of all thoughts of you.”

“I didn't realize you thought of me that much. It certainly never seemed so.”

“Which is what I wanted you, and the others, to believe. I wanted myself to believe it, as well. And yet, I wasn't successful in any way.” Thorin met his eyes, bringing a hand up to cup Bilbo's cheek, his fingers sliding into Bilbo's hair and tracing the edges of his ears. “My head has been filled with nothing but you since I walked through your door, Bilbo Baggins.”

Bilbo didn't know why, but Thorin's words, his hushed, insistent tone, unsettled him. He was too intense, even for Thorin, and it made Bilbo uncomfortable. He thought he could come to like Thorin very much, truthfully, he was rather fond of him already, despite the behaviour that had nearly driven him home, but Thorin's tone made him wonder just how much Thorin cared for him.

“I've finally realized that the only way to deal with it is to give in. But it took you almost leaving to wake me up.”

“So you were awake,” Bilbo said, thinking back to Thorin's quick reactions on the night they had fallen into the mountain. 

“Yes. And despite having pushed you away with purpose, I still felt sick for making you feel that your only recourse was to leave us and travel home alone. It...” Thorin breathed deeply, the pain in his eyes hurting Bilbo as well. “It was poorly done. It was a mistake, and I will never stop being sorry for it.”

“I know. But I've already forgiven you, so if you would stop beating yourself up about it, I'd appreciate it.” Bilbo smiled at Thorin and was pleased to see an answering smile. “Anyway, all this talking about the mistakes of the past has been detrimental to the purpose of you having me naked behind a closed door.” Bilbo was fully awake now, and well recovered from his first round. 

“I'm quite ready for round two, if you don't mind, your majesty,” Bilbo demanded, pushing himself down and feeling Thorin's interest renewed. 

“Don't your majesty me, Hobbit,” Thorin growled, his grip tightening as he bit at Bilbo's neck, pushing upwards as Bilbo pressed down. “I'll have you use my name and nothing else.”

“If you, ah...insist,” Bilbo was losing control of his words again, as Thorin pulled his cheeks apart, rubbing his hardness across Bilbo's entrance. “Wait,” he said, clarity returning momentarily. “We still don't have oil.”

Thorin stilled, his eyes roaming the room as he muttered, “there must be some, the beast has everything in here...oh, there.” 

He stood, taking Bilbo with him. Bilbo yelped in surprise, his arms tightening around Thorin's shoulders as he took two steps, reached onto a shelf and brought a tall, thin bottle back to the nest with them, completely uninterested that he'd hefted Bilbo's weight around with one arm. 

It interested Bilbo however, he loved seeing the evidence of Thorin's great strength, and feeling it moving under him was enough to have him at full hardness again. Thorin settled back onto his knees and gave the oil to Bilbo and held his hand out. Bilbo knew exactly what he wanted, pulling the cork out and dribbling some onto Thorin's waiting hand. 

He'd barely had time to re cork the bottle when Thorin's finger was pressing into him, in and out steadily as Thorin sucked at his collarbone, ramping up all the sensations once more, making Bilbo impatient.

“Okay, enough, let's go,” he said, tugging Thorin's head up and kissing him soundly, his tongue mimicking what he wanted to feel from Thorin.

“No, not yet,” Thorin gasped once he'd pulled away from Bilbo's insistent lips. Bilbo, despite having finished once already, was becoming desperate and needy again...his state of mind not helped by the fact that his erection was pressed between his own belly and Thorin's rock hard stomach. The friction and pressure was exquisite and overwhelming, the only thing that could be better at that moment would be Thorin inside him, stretching him wide for the first time in a week. 

“Yes, now!” Bilbo demanded, lifting himself up and reaching back to grasp Thorin's erection himself. His hand clutched at Thorin's, slick with oil and spreading it over his shaft. Bilbo was in no mood to wait any longer, sitting down, their hands working together to guide Thorin inside.

Then he was in, and Bilbo hissed as the girth of him burned, his muscles familiarizing themselves to Thorin's invasion. Bilbo pushed down further, knowing that he'd be tender in the morning, but not caring enough to wait. Gandalf had said that they would likely be staying here for several days, so Bilbo knew there would be recovery time. Even if they didn't stay, it didn't matter. After years of unwilling celibacy, he had thrown himself into Thorin's arms eagerly and had quickly become accustomed to having regular sex. He knew a time would come when he'd go home and Thorin would remain at Erebor, and he'd have to set all of it aside, but this was not that day, so he was in no humour to wait. 

Thorin's arms around him were like a bands of steel, one wrapped around his hips, the other across his back to clutch at the opposite shoulder, and despite his reluctance to finish the prep, he had embraced the moment, thrusting inside Bilbo as if stopping would cause him to fly apart. 

“Ah, ah, ah...” Bilbo cried, the sounds forced out of him, loud and careless of any who might hear him. Thorin's voice was not any quieter, his grunts and growls matching Bilbo's in volume and frequency. His second climax rose up inside him, slower than the first, and Bilbo could feel every minute detail as it approached.

Thorin came with a roar, his stuttering hips sending shocks through Bilbo, the pressure on that spot increasing as the head of Thorin's cock expanded, shooting his release deep inside. He was so, so very close, and when Thorin took a mouthful of his skin and sucked on it, scraping it with his teeth, that was all Bilbo needed to find his peak, his head thrown back as his bellow of completion filled the room. 

Bilbo didn't remember much after that...he knew that Thorin laid him down and wrapped the blankets around them, uncaring of the mess they'd made. He knew that Thorin pulled him close, his body wrapped around Bilbo's completely as he drifted into slumber. He remembered hearing Thorin's deep, scratchy bass whispering to him in Khuzdul, but he didn't know the words and was too insensible to remember them. 

He was warm and comfortable and completely sated, finally unresisting as sleep claimed him.

**Author's Note:**

> I was surprised at both how long this took to write and how many words it ended up with by the time I was through. I had several scenes that I had planned to include in this chapter, but apparently they will be in the next one, as I am done writing for now and need a break before I start afresh. 
> 
> I wanted to post it before bed, so it would be there in the morning, but I ended up writing 4000 words of the last part instead. Oops?
> 
> This is where I'm going to have to pull away from the movieverse more than I already have...things are not going to be able to play out the same. Which is worrying and cool...it means I get to figure out what my characters are doing, but it also means I have to figure out what my characters are doing. lol. The fic writer's dilemma.


End file.
